Tarot
by Aluis Fyrae
Summary: Anise is woman of many tragedies, and now she must come to terms with them as she dreams of the tarot cards that call to her.


Demons sometimes hide inside of you and other times look you right in the eye. They make you remember smells, tastes, and smiles. You'll see faces, places, and tears when you think you've gotten away. They feed off the ghosts of your guilt and shame, savouring the flavour of a banquet that lasts nearly a century. It's a filthy feast with me, a gluttonous gorging of the yearning for more, even when the hunger has died.

**The**** Magician**

The Magician is a master of illusion and lies, promising gold at the end of a rainbow you can never catch. He came to me in the form of a boy, as a demon wrapped in the guise of a lover. I was shown a horrid and beautiful world, but he left me with only a taste. He took from me until there was nothing. I was worthless and he let me fall as the illusion faded. I fell into the pit and landed with a hollow thud.

The crying lasted months but seemed like centuries. The illusion was now a ghost, and it sickened me with memories. I searched for an escape, but nothing could fill the hole inside. A selfish hate guided the blade to my skin. I watched it puncture and bleed as if in slow motion, forming the letters of my name.

_A.__N.__I.__S.__E._

Was this truly my name?

**The ****Faerie**** of ****Naughtiness**

I'd hear her speak in my place, under the drunken slur and lusty stares. As the devil on my shoulder, she brought to me a filling and a use. I saw these faces of men, and wonder how I fell beneath them. I was pressed to their foul breath and nauseating body odor, wishing they wouldn't kiss me. In the moment of pondering filth, I'd feel the devil work the strings and speak the names; we felt alive. She was the temptress and the drunkard and I let her drive my body down the spiral. We were falling faster, with men and with drinks. Once she had her fun, she went on to the next hopeless soul, cackling as she went. Everything in the world was ugly and angry, but still I drank.

**The**** Crone**

The cackle occurred again, but it was different now; this laugh was joyless and heartless. I never saw her eyes, but I knew she saw mine. She fed on my disgust and self-hatred, but only from the corner of my eye. She'd hop from edge to edge and avoid my glare, leaving me breadcrumbs along the trail. I followed her to the house, painted in white and burnt orange that was always on fire. Inside, the walls were lined with patterns of blue camels and the smoke from the fire made me dizzy. In a delirious haze, I reached for the platter on the table. The pills were emeralds in my eyes and like liquid gold running down my throat.

I sang and danced, holding a light within myself as I laughed at the torture. The Crone would send daggers and knives through my body, letting me snicker as I bled. I was the addict, I was the drinker, and I laughed at it all. I'd giggle and scream until I fell to the floor, fading into bliss of another kind.

**The**** Dreaming**

She appeared first in my mind as a woman in a boat. The boat was made of crystal, laced in threads that glittered like gems and she herself shimmered with an unearthly glow. The Dreaming smiled as the storm inside me calmed. It felt like a rush of cool water running through my veins when she spoke quietly. I was told stories about the woods and the rivers. It was as if this was a promise to a deal. I stumbled into her boat and enjoyed a peace within sleep that I had never known.

I awoke with madness in my brain; the Crone had hidden inside my head, not ready to become a ghost. Screaming and tearing at my insides, she was making me sick. I'd throw up until there was nothing left inside. Still, the Crone made me heave. Sleep never came; my body felt sore and everything ached. I'd wander around a place I didn't know, unsure of what I was doing. How was it that the day was this long?

The Dreaming emerged as a lynx this time, but I was awake when I envisioned her. She told me of the woods and rivers again. I nodded as if I knew. If I killed the Crone, I could live in those woods. I'd ask her how, but she'd never tell. I already knew, but I didn't like it because it hurt. I was told to look ahead and when I did, I saw an impenetrable blackness. She'd smile and say, "I promise you, there is a light at the end. Just hold on."

I believed her.

**Remembrance**

Remembrance came to me only as a mist. He said nothing, but words weren't needed. I was shown a table with wines and pills. He knew before he showed me that I wanted nothing more of that world. The misty glow around him brightened with what I deemed as pride. When he left, he left behind these cards.

I read the cards and I see five phases of my life. I look from The Magician and I see how I fell, and how I rose out of the ashes. I am a phoenix, and beneath me are the ashes of the Crone. I passed the temptation of Remembrance and now I look back into the eyes of these demons. They dine on my ghosts and I watch them lick their fingers, casting hateful stares at my grin. As they feast with insatiable hunger, I see things I have done. I feel the blood and smell the liquor. I grin because I know that once the ghosts have been eaten, they will cease to haunt me.


End file.
